Life After Fred
by HazelVex
Summary: When Fred died, he left behind a twin. George was left without his identity, without his laughter, his smile, his will to live. Though everyone missed it as they rose above their own grief, Charlie noticed and he observed. And he understood. (Just a small one-shot on George's view from when Fred died, told from Charlie's POV. TRIGGER WARNING!)


LIFE AFTER FRED

When Fred died, the whole family had been devastated. We mourned for months in all that days that followed, as did every other family, magical or otherwise, and slowly as the wizarding world mended, so did the family. Day by day it became as though he was just part of a childhood dream. The world continued turning and people continued laughing, even if it did take a few cheering charms every now and then. Everyone learnt to smile again. Everyone, except George.

I think I was the only one who saw through his fake smiles and colourful exterior. His blue eyes that had always glinted with untold amusement, were dead and glassy; his smile never reached them. His laughs were empty and far apart with few between. He continued with the shop but mostly left his manager to it. No more explosions could be heard from the backrooms; his heart wasn't in it.

I'd caught him staring in the mirror once, crying; falling apart. I'd heard him beg for forgiveness, for not being fast enough to save him. Harry had told us once of a mirror that showed you your heart's deepest desire; for George, every mirror he saw was the Mirror of Erised.

He would slip up at times, and wait for Fred to finish his sentences before remembering. His shoulders would then slump and he'd excuse himself for a few moments, promising to talk later. It had been often in the beginning and then when he was just started to find joy or interest in a topic.

He had told me once, whilst nursing a bottle of Firewhisky, that if he could switch places he wouldn't. He had said that if he had died and Fred had lived, they would still be apart. He had said separation was a fate worse than death and that he planned to rectify that. Though I had been worried, I didn't read into it.

When George had asked me to play witness to his will, I had accepted and I had known at once. Though I had not wished to lose another brother, and I had not wished to see my mother weep over another gravestone, I had accepted and kept the knowledge to myself of what he was going to do. I had confronted him about it, and he had answered me truthfully; he had known all along that I had understood and had been glad that I had accepted it.

When animals are in pain, they are put down. It is the humane thing to do, and that is what we are always told. My younger brother had been in pain, he had lost his reason to live, his joy, his laughter, his smile and in this I could see no difference. George had been suffering, and the one way to end it was to do what he did.

I had been the only one to receive a note, and as such I had been the one to find and collect the body. The slip of parchment had been simple and to the point.

 _You understood and for that I cannot thank you enough. I am sorry to leave you but I cannot stay. There is no life after Fred for me. When you receive this I will be dead; you will find me with my twin._

 _-George_

I had gone immediately to Fred's grave and found the cold lifeless body of what had been the remaining twin. I had cradled his body, as I waited for the undertakers to arrive. I had identified it, I signed all the papers and I had the plot next to Fred's bought and a gravestone being made before the rest of the family had even found out. I had been planned and prepared ever since I played witness to the will; it had been merely a matter of informing those I had on standby that it was time.

They took it just as I had expected they would. Bill went quiet and after a moment's discussion with me, retreated from the family. Percy had tightened his jaw, his lips clamped shut, before announcing he was going for a walk. Ron had been distraught and angry but calmed to tears once he had worked it out of his system. And nobody saw Ginny's, she had hidden herself in her room, had become nocturnal. Mum resumed the regime of bursting into tears and Dad to staring into empty spaces. I was the only one who continued forwards.

The will reading was scheduled before the funeral. As discussed, he had left the shop to myself and Harry, claiming that as the first two supporters, and myself the final one, we were owed it. He had left Ginny his gold watch, Percy his original prefect badge that the twins had stolen what seemed like aeons ago, Bill a sizeable sum, as did Mum and Dad. Ron had received an assortment of DADA products that had not been put on the shelves yet to help with his auror training.

Everyone had been left in a state again after that.

The funeral was small and private and it felt like Fred's all over again. We said our goodbyes, though I had said mine when he was still alive, paid our respects to each twin in turn before returning home.

The climb out of grief was different lengths for different people and it was Mum who got over it last. I suppose it brought up a lot of old memories from her brothers; Fabian and Gideon. There was a distinct decrease in laughter in the house after that.

Whilst for us, there was a life after. For George there had been no life after Fred. Fred had been his life, as he had been Fred's. They were bonded further that just blood.

You could tell it from the scars on his arms, you could tell it from the depression he had slipped into and you could tell it from his suicide.

And so it changed from Life After Fred, to Life After George.

And then Life After the Twins.


End file.
